


Your Touch

by Purple_fools_gold



Series: Bertolt Hoover x Reader Collection [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Background Jean/Marco - Freeform, Blood Kink, Drunk Reader, F/M, How Do I Tag, Lemon, Makeouts, Minor Blood Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13467249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purple_fools_gold/pseuds/Purple_fools_gold
Summary: After getting soaked in a rainstorm, Bertolt helps you get your wet clothes off and you feel... things.Smut in the second chapter.





	Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

> So I literally JUST joined the AoT fandom but hoooo boy am I down the rabbit hole. There's a bit of a lack of Bertolt works here so I decided to make my own contribution.  
> Again, smut in second chapter, which I will be posting in the next couple of days.  
> This is not beta'd so all mistakes are my own, and obviously I don't own any of these characters, including you.  
> Hope you enjoy!!

“You did this on purpose.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“You. Did this. On. Purpose.”

“Oh yeah, for sure. I made it rain just to piss you off. I’ve actually had control over the weather my whole life, I just never had a reason to use it until this exact moment, just to piss you off.”

“I hate you, Jean.” You huffed. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m soaking wet too, you know?”

You huffed in annoyance again, wrapping your arms closer around your soaked body. You’d gone out after hours with your friend to do some extra hand-to-hand combat training, and of course, a downpour had started. 

You’d been soaked in seconds, the cold rain feeling like it was seeping into your bones and freezing you to your core. Your uniform was sticking to your skin, and despite the hood pulled over your head, your hair was flattened against your head and the back of your neck, causing you to shiver even more.

You could see the base ahead of you, and fought the urge to run towards it. You’d tried that when it first started raining and had slipped on the muddy ground and nearly face planted.

You felt your teeth start to chatter as you neared your destination, and felt an arm slip around your shoulders.

“You alright, Y/N?”

“F-fine,” You said, trying to not bite off the tip of your tongue as you spoke.

Jean squeezed you gently into his side. “Take a shower when you get back, get those clothes off you, alright?”

“K-kay,” You managed out. “G-gonna help me with that, K-kirstein?”

He snorted. “Maybe some other time, when you’re not dying from hypothermia.”

You and Jean had a habit of bantering back and forth, often turning to light flirting, though you both knew it was all for fun. He was all talk when it came to you, and you knew he had a thing for Marco, despite his claims against it. 

You finally reached the door for your base and Jean swung it open for you. You rushed in, breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of water being dumped over your head.

“Jean! Y/N! Don’t tell me you got stuck in that?” A voice called.

You looked over to see Marco hurrying over, your other friends in tow.

“Y-yeah. T-tried training b-but got s-s-s-” You couldn’t get your last word out of your mouth.

“Jeez, Y/N, you look like you’re gonna freeze!” he said, worry all over his face. “Take off your gear!” He all but ripped off your cape and jacket, then walked over to do the same to Jean.

You shrugged, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. These were your closest friends, but you still wanted to keep up the appearance of being strong. Even if you couldn’t feel your toes and you were pretty sure your lips were turning blue.

You looked over to see Marco fretting over Jean, and held back a laugh. Jean’s face was turning redder every second as Marco attempted to warm up his (boy)friends fingers by cupping them in his own hands and blowing on them.

He was so lucky you could barely talk right now.

You felt two large hands cup your face, and looked up to see a very worried looking Reiner frowning down at you. Always the big brother. “You feel like ice, Y/N. Your lips are blue.” You felt his thumb brush your bottom lip. Well, mostly felt it. 

You heard Bertolt cough from behind his blonde friend, and glanced over to see him standing very straight, eyes glued to the floor, hands curled up in fists. 

“You okay, Bertolt?” You asked.

“Mm,” He muttered. “Uh, you just… your clothes, uh…”

Oh. 

You glanced down at yourself, your light clothes clinging to every inch of your body and a little more see-through in certain areas than you’d like. 

“I’ll, uh, I’m g-gonna go c-change.” You reached up to wrap your arms around yourself, then realized you could barely move them without them shaking like you were convulsing. 

Reiner’s hands moved down to your shoulders, and you tried to hold back a sigh at the slight warmth they provided you. “You want help?”

You nodded at the same time both Jean and Marco called out, “Not from you!”

Reiner frowned. “Hey, why not?”

“You, helping Y/N take off her clothes? Nope. Not happening.” Marco shook his head. “Bertolt can help her.”

You looked over and saw the boy’s face turn even redder than it was before. “You don’t h-have to, Bert. I can manage…” You started, but he cut you off.

“You can’t even raise your arms.” He gave you a small smile, meeting your eyes. 

“Well, I’m offended.” Reiner said, though he stepped away from you. “I’m just trying to help out a friend.”

“You wanna help me?” Jean asked.

“Fuck no. Oh. Point taken.” He grinned at you. “Some other time, then?”

You managed a smile back. “I-in your dreams.”

The blonde grinned wider and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “No funny business, Bert.” 

At that, Bertolt’s face turned red again and he looked down at his feet. 

Reiner left, and Marco led Jean off to help him… warm up, you assumed.

“C-come on,” You said to the boy left in front of you. “You c-can start my sh-shower for me.”

He nodded and came up to wrap one of his arms around you.

You looked up at him in surprise. You hadn’t expected this much physical contact, as he usually shyed away from most people’s touches.

You let him lead to back to your room, and open the door for you.

Your teeth had stopped chattering by the time you entered your room, thanks to the human furnace that was Bertolt. 

The rest of your body was still shaking, though less violently than before.

Bertolt stepped away from you to go turn on your shower and you couldn’t help but let out a soft whine at the loss of warmth.

He looked back at you, a strange look on his face.

Now it was your turn to turn red in the face. “Sorry. You’re just, uh, really warm.”

He looked away from you quickly and hurried into your bathroom.

You sighed once he was out of sight. 

You hated to admit it, but you might’ve had the teeniest crush on the boy currently in your room. And you were making it awkward. Of course. Get a boy in your bedroom to help you take your clothes off and you make it weird.

You heard the water running and struggled to start unbuttoning your top.

Bertolt emerged from your bathroom and you looked up at him sheepishly. “Could you, uh, do you think you could…?” You glanced down at your shirt and trembling fingers.

“Oh. Um. Yeah. I mean, yeah, I came up to help you, so, uh…” He crossed the distance between you two in a few large steps, and stopped a few inches in front of you.

Heat was radiating from his body, and you wondered if his bare skin would feel warm under your hands.

“You’re not even touching me and I can feel how warm you are.” You said, voice soft, resisting the urge to close the small distance and wrap yourself around him. 

He placed his hands gently on your forearms, rubbing up and down, slowly making his way up to your arms to your shoulders, continuing to warm you with his movements.

“Mm, thanks.” You said, voice still quiet, enjoying the friction of his hands on your body.

His hands drifted up past your shoulders, ghosting over the bare skin on your neck and to the back of your head. His fingers brushed the nape of your neck and he must have felt you shudder at his touch.

His touch on your bare skin was making you feel things. Things you hadn’t felt in a long time.

His hands slid back down, fingertips ghosting over the hollow of your neck and your collarbone until they reached the first button on your shirt. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, so hard he could probably feel it. 

He paused for a moment, then popped the first one open. Then the next, then the next. He worked slowly, careful to not let your shirt open any wider than it needed to, so you were never exposed to him.

You let out a small hiss as cold air hit the bare skin along your abdomen.

Once he undid the last button, he crouched down until his head was level with your stomach. You clenched your jaw as he undid your pants, then let his hands rest on your hips for the briefest of moments. He let out a harsh exhale of warm air that you felt on your stomach and oh God what is happening this is not happening please just take my pants off and-

He stood up abruptly, startling you. 

He must have seen the look on your face, somewhere between shock and yearning and fear, because his face softened and he reached out to you once more.

He cupped your face like Reiner had earlier, and despite the intense warmth they gave off you repressed a shiver. You closed your eyes as his thumbs traced circles over your cheeks. “Better?” He asked quietly. 

You nodded, eyes still closed. “Thank you.”

“Mm,” He sounded distracted. His thumb drifted over your slightly parted lips, pushing slightly. “Your lips really are blue.” He let his thumb drag down over your bottom lip, gently tugging it down.

“Gonna warm them up for me, Hoover?” You only used his last name when you were teasing, and you gave him a smile to match.

His hands dropped from your face and you immediately regretted your words.

“Sorry,” You said. “Just teasing.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, I know.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Um. You- are you good now? On your own?”

“I think so, yeah.” You suddenly wished you’d been wearing your harness so he could have taken that off you, too. 

“Okay, then, uh, see you around.” He all but bolted to the door and you bit your lip. You heard your bedroom door open, signalling his exit.

Letting out a sigh you walked towards your bathroom, slipping your shirt off your back as you neared the now steaming shower.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw your door was only have closed, Bertolt standing with his eyes glued to your bare back.

His eyes flew up to yours and for a brief moment, you felt his heated gaze pierce into you, sending fire throughout your entire body. There was something dark in his eyes, a hunger you’d never seen in him before.

“Bertolt,” You breathed, unsure of what else to say.

And then the look in his eyes was gone, he was red in the face again and looking at his feet. He slammed the door shut behind him and the moment was gone.

You stared at the closed door a little longer than necessary before turning back to your shower. You stepped under the stream of water, breathing out a sigh as it slowly warmed you.

You closed your eyes and let the water run over your body.

Bertolt.

That look in his eyes. The way he had touched you, so soft and gentle… And God, the way his thumb had tugged on your lips, you wanted to run your teeth along the digit and then pull it into your mouth to suck on it and see his face turn red again.

You opened your eyes.

Well, shit. 

Looks like you had more than a teeny crush on Bertolt Hoover. 

 

*************************************************************

 

A week had passed since your encounter with Bertolt and it was safe to say you were getting a little obsessed. 

You found yourself staring at him whenever he was near you, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was worried, the way he bit his lip when he concentrated on something really hard, the way his fingers could strap on and undo his harness quickly.

God, his fingers…

You thought back to how they’d felt on your skin, on your lips, how you wished he’d just ripped open your shirt and let his fingers crawl across your exposed skin and-

You gave a startled cry as you were suddenly thrown off your feet and landed flat on your back. “Ow, what the hell, Jean?”

“Where’s your head at? We’re training, Y/N. Not the best time to be daydreaming.” He held his hand out to help you up.

You stayed in your place on the ground for a minute, rubbing at the back of your head. “I wasn’t daydreaming, I was just…” You felt your gaze wander back over to Bertolt before you snapped your eyes back.

“Oh, I see.” Jean had followed your gaze to his friend. “Bertolt warmed you up a bit the other night, did he?”

“Jean-”

“And we thought Reiner was gonna be an issue. Wait until-”

“Nothing happened, asshole.” You grumbled and pushed his outstretched hand out of the way. 

“You wanted it to, though?”

“No,” You said way too quickly.

Jean raised an eyebrow.

You sighed, feeling your face grow warm.

“Aw, look at you, all smitten.” He reached his arm around to get you in a headlock.

“Hey!”

He ruffled your hair with his free hand. “Little Y/N, got a crush on Berty.”

You struggled against him. “Jean! Shush!”

He released you, grinning. “So. You gonna-”

“No,”

“What? You don’t even know what I was going to-”

“Yes, I do. And no, nothing is going to happen.”

“Why not? Did he say something to make you think he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Well, no…”

“Did he do something to make you think that?”

“Kinda the opposite actually…” You muttered.

Jean’s expression lit up. “Ooh. Do tell.”

You felt your face flush again, a feeling you were experiencing all too much recently. “He… he gave me this look before he left. I’ve never seen him… I don’t know, it was almost like…”

“Was it bedroom eyes?”

“Jean!”

“What? I’m just asking. Listen, if you like him that much, you need to talk to him.”

“No way. I’ll get shot down for sure. If he wants to say something to me, he can come up to me.”

“Y/N, this is Bertolt we’re talking about. You think he’d ever confront anyone about anything?”

You glanced over to the boy you were talking about again, and saw him duck his head away from you. Had he been watching you?

“You’re probably right.” You said slowly.

“Of course I am! Now, let’s get back to training. If he turns you down, you gotta be able to kick his ass.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, horse boy.”

“Hey, I said ‘if!’”

 

******************************

It took almost another week before you built up the courage to say anything to Bertolt. The real deciding factor was when Commander Erwin had announced a night off for the younger scouts, leading everyone to all but sprint to the nearest pub.

Yes, alcohol seemed like a very good idea.

After a couple several beers and a few too many shots of something that burned your throat but made you feel like you could punch a Titan in the face, you thought you were ready to talk to Bertolt.

You stood up from your seat, confidence at an all time high, slamming your hands down on the table in front of you. “I’m gonna do it.” You announced to Jean, Marco, Connie, and Sasha, much to their confusion. You turned to go find the boy of your dreams and promptly tripped over your chair.

You let out a strangled curse as you prepared to hit the disgusting floor of the pub, but something very solid and very warm stopped you. You looked up to see-

“Bertolt!” You cried out happily.

“Oh, this is gonna be good.” Jean said.

“What?” Marco asked.

Jean shushed him and sipped his beer, keeping his eyes on you.

“You okay, Y/N?” Bertolt asked you.

“I am great, thank you for asking. How are you?” You were clinging to his arm even though you were no longer at risk for falling. 

“Um,” He eyed you carefully, clearly noticing how drunk you were.

“Hey Bertolt! I think Y/N’s had enough to drink tonight, be a gentleman and walk her back, would you?” Jean called over.

Bertolt glanced down, then said, “I guess. I was heading back anyways, so-”

“Oh good!” You exclaimed. “I wanted to talk to you!”

“Uh, right. Let’s get you home.” He went to pull his arm away from you, but you clung to it tighter and pressed yourself up against him.

“You’re so waaaaarm.” You buried your face into his arm and distantly heard Jean laughing. Someone must have made a joke.

“O-okay, come on.” You felt Bertolt tug you along, and you followed him.

He quickly realized that even with his arm as your anchor, it was hard for you to walk in a straight line. He stopped, bent down, and gestured for you to climb on his back. “Go on.” You grinned widely and wrapped your arms around his neck before hopping on his back. His hands gripped your legs tightly, not trusting you to hold yourself on properly. You let your face rest in the crook of his neck as he started walking again, enjoying the warmth he gave off.

As you nuzzled into him, Bertolt struggled to keep his breathing even. He could smell your hair, something sweet and a little earthy, and it made him think back to when he’d helped you after the rainstorm, how he’d let himself get carried away and touch you. How your lips had felt so soft and pliant and-

He nearly tripped when he felt your lips press gently against his neck.

“Thanks for being so sweet, Bertolt.” You whispered, lips ghosting against his skin as you spoke.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, n-no problem. Happy to help.”

You sighed contently and nuzzled his neck again. 

Bertolt squeezed his eyes shut briefly and tried to will away his thoughts of you. But, God, you were right there and pressed against his back, and your lips were tickling his skin and he couldn’t help it. All he could think about was you, and your lips and your eyes and your S/T skin bare to him as he undressed you, and the urge he’d felt when he’d undone your pants to rip them off you and push you back onto your bed, and the way you’d looked at him when he hadn’t, like you were a little disappointed… No. That couldn't be it. Why would you want him? You had Jean and Marco and Reiner and anyone else but him.

He hadn’t even realized he’d gotten to your room until he was standing outside your door. He took one hand from holding your legs to open it, and carried you inside. “Y/N, we’re here.” He said quietly.

“Hmm?” You’d nearly dozed off on your way back. “Oh. Thanks.” You felt more sleepy than intoxicated now. 

Bertolt slowly lowered you to the ground, noticing how you were still unsteady on your feet. “Come on.” he said gently, tugging you over to your bed. “You’re gonna have a fun morning tomorrow.”He pulled the covers off your bed and sat you down on it. He knelt in front of you and untied your boots, slipping them off one by one. “Lay down.” You did. He pulled the blankets back up over you and you felt like your heart was going to explode. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He brushed some stray hair off your face and turned to leave.

You hummed happily, feeling very warm and cozy and so tired…

Your door shut quietly, and you bolted upright. “Shit. Shit shit shit, Bertolt wait!” You nearly fell out of your bed trying to get out of it. How had you forgotten to tell him?

You stumbled your way to the door and flung it open. “Bertolt!” You looked down the hallways, seeing him just down the hallway to your left. He stopped when he heard you say his name. 

You hurried the few steps down the hallway towards him. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked when you got close to him.

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. It’s, uh, shit, I don’t-” You fumbled your words, unsure of exactly what you wanted to say. You looked down at your bare feet. “I, I, um. I want-”

“What do you want, Y/N?” His voice was quiet, but there was something else that made you look up at him.

His green eyes looked so sad and hopeful at the same time you wanted to cry. 

You took another step towards him so your bodies were almost touching. 

“Tell me.” His voice was barely a whisper.

You took his hands in yours and brought them up to your face, how they’d been two weeks ago in your room. You didn’t trust yourself to say the right words so you hoped that this would be enough.

“Y/N, I can’t-”

“Please,” You said, not wanting to hear whatever else he had to say. “Please.”

He let his left hand drift down to cup the back of your neck and let his thumb on his opposite hand touch your lips again, this time with barely any pressure, just a light skim across your soft skin.

You moved your hand to keep his where it was, thumb still on your lips, and kissed it.

Bertolt sucked in a breath. He started to say your name, but you brought his hand closer to your mouth and kissed his open palm, then the inside of his wrist, then his knuckles.

He was frozen the whole time, afraid to move, afraid to speak, afraid to stop whatever was happening and also afraid to let it continue. 

You caught one of his fingers between your lips and sucked gently.

This seemed to change something in him, because you were suddenly backed against the wall of the hallway with his face inches from yours, your hands grasped in his at your sides. His body was close to shaking, his breathes were deep and laboured.

You stared up at him, surprised at his boldness but fuck if you weren’t a little turned on by it, too.

His face hovered just above yours, so close but just out of reach.

Your mouth parted slightly, enough for you to say his name once more, and then his lips were crashing into yours, his body pushing you closer into the wall.

You let out a moan at the first contact and then kissed him back eagerly, weeks of anticipation leading up to this moment, and maybe you were still a little drunk but your head was spinning.

His hands left yours and gripped at your waist, trying to pull you closer to him even though you were already molded together. Your hands were now tangled in his dark hair, pulling gently and eliciting soft moans from him.

You felt a heat burning through your body, and it wasn’t just because Bertolt was pressed against you. Okay, it was all because he was pressed against you, but it wasn’t his body heat that was making you feel this way. 

His mouth left yours and you whined at the loss of contact, then moaned as his lips locked onto your neck, sucking gently at the skin.

“Bertolt,” You said, “Fuck, Bertolt.” He nipped at the sensitive skin, not enough to leave a bruise, but enough to leave tiny red marks across your skin and a fiery trail with them. You saying his name seemed to spur him on, because he started sucking a bit harder, biting a bit harder. 

You were a whimpering mess beneath him, unable to do anything but tilt your head back and let him reduce you to a puddle of moans and whines. 

His mouth was back on yours in an instant, and then a stinging pain shot through your lip. “Ow,” You said, even though it didn’t really hurt.

Bertolt froze, panting. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” His voice trailed off.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t even hurt.” You brought one of your hands up to touch your lip, and when you looked at your fingers there were droplets of red on them. “It’ll stop in a minute.”

His gaze was flickering between your lip and your fingers.

“Bertolt?”

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, and you noticed his gaze had darkened further.

“Are you… Do you like blood?”

His eyes shot up to yours, but before he could say anything you took a chance and pressed your bloodied fingers against his lips.

He shuddered and closed his eyes, taking your fingers in his mouth and sucking, his tongue sending sparks though your fingers.

He opened his eyes when you drew your fingers back, and though his gaze was still dark, he said, “Sorry,”

“Don’t be.” You said. “That’s kinda hot.”

With that, he pulled you back in and starting sucking on your lower lip, teeth gently pressing on the fast-healing wound.

The slight sting of pain made you whimper again, and soon his lips were fully on yours again.

“Bite me again.” You said, pulling back slightly.

“What?”

“Bite me again.” You met his gaze and he groaned.

“Y/N…”

“I like it.” You trailed your hands down his chest and he let out a shuddery breath before he leaned back down to capture your lips again. A few moments later and you felt a new stinging pain, and then a tongue pressed against it.

“Fuck,” You said, unaware that something like this would make you feel this way. You let your hands slide down his chest more, down his chiseled abdomen and to the hem of his pants.

As soon as your fingers brushed the fabric he suddenly grabbed your hands and stopped his attack on your mouth.

“Sorry,” You said. “I got carried away. We don’t have to-”

“I can’t.” He said, forehead resting against yours.

You leaned forwards, trying to recapture his lips with your own. “It’s alright, we can just keep kissing, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He pulled himself away from you, though he kept your hands clasped in his own. “No. I mean, I can’t do this. Any of this. I just- I can’t. I’m sorry. We can’t, we can never…”

“What are you talking about?”

“I-I just… I can’t. I’m sorry.” He dropped your hands and all but ran down the hall.

You were left stunned. “Bertolt? Bertolt!” You called after him, but he was gone.

You blinked slowly, trying to process everything that had just happened. You turned and walked back to your room, feeling like you were in a daze.

You shut your door behind you and crawled into bed, hugging a pillow to your chest. You felt tears prick at the back of your eyes as the rejection stung. You tried to will the tears away but gave up quickly and let them fall. 

Despite the sadness growing in your chest you fell asleep quickly, exhaustion taking over.

You dreamed of green eyes alight with fire and hands caressing your body, only to wake up alone and hurting again.


End file.
